


The Night Completes

by TheWickedWitchy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: I mean sort of kinda but not really?, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 11:39:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13007007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWickedWitchy/pseuds/TheWickedWitchy
Summary: - 12 days of Love-mas - Day 3 - When you return to me





	The Night Completes

Patience was a virtue.

Right now Steve thought that particular phrase was a pile of horseshit, and had they been alone his hands would not ache from balling into fists so hard, nor would his lips be pressed together in a thin line while Tony was talking.  
They would be on Thor’s, kissing him within an inch of his life, reassuring himself that the other was fine, and alive, and still in one piece.

This was the price he had to pay, a godawful and incredibly annoying price, for that little peace of mind that keeping the relationship secret offered. It meant having to keep himself in check when Thor was off world or on a mission, it meant keeping himself preoccupied and fight off waves of nausea and worry, it meant holding it together every time the god returned and he looked like the whole world had attempted to break him.  
It sometimes meant avoiding Thor’s eyes when they sought him out, worried that the want and love there would break his resolve once and for all.

‘ I suppose it is plausible it is insignificant, but there is a possibility I am wrong.’  
‘ There’s only one way to find out.’ 

The last slivers of the conversation between the Asgardian and the inventor did not bode well for him, and Steve forces himself to exchange looks with the both of them, the urge to reach for Thor’s arm brushed aside in favor of asking.  
‘ It’s a good lead?’  
‘ Hard to say,’ Tony answers with a face that spoke volumes, ‘ but Thor has seen several groups moving north in the span of an hour. Honestly, who does that if it doesn’t mean something?’  
‘ I should return and follow, perhaps a longer inspection will yield better results.’ 

That breaks the façade of interest in the mission Steve has so carefully crafted, expression falling into disbelief, and he looks at the god with worry, voice a fraction too unsteady to his liking.  
‘ You’re going back? On your own again?’ 

Never would he discover if Tony had noticed it, but he is grateful for the genius interrupting whatever Thor wanted to answer, waving the words off even before the god had voiced them.  
‘ No, not gonna happen. We re-group, check out the activity from a distance first tomorrow, and go in together. You need a break. Go drink and … frolic, or whatever it is you do after manhandling people. ’  
‘ Yeah,’ Steve adds a fraction later, catching the eagerness in himself in time before it threatened to turn his voice and body jittery. ‘ I’m going home, we should… I mean you have nothing left to do right?’ 

Here that strange expression emerges in the Asgardian, the kind Steve dreaded and wanted to understand more than anything else, that distinct shifting of the god’s frown and eyes telling there was still a ton – too much – rolling around in Thor’s mind.  
‘ I will be at the apartment shortly, I must speak to a few people first.’ 

Steve watches him leave with a pang of longing and twisting insides, not a sliver of that short-lived relief left in his body.

***

It had been hours since he had forced himself to go to bed, since he had managed to do the steady routine of shower, brushing teeth, checking the locks, and in the darkness Steve went through several stages of anger and worry. The two exchanged places repeatedly after a while; after midnight he had vowed to himself he would have a stern talking with Thor about the exact meaning of ‘shortly’, around 1 A.M. he had visions of Thor’s bruised face, and by the time he had returned to the phase of tossing and anxious nausea he was convinced he would not sleep anymore.

Staring at the ceiling never helped of course, and turning on his side Steve had closed his eyes eventually, deeming resting of any kind the very least he could do at the moment. And he managed it, somehow, for a few minutes, until the door creaked and he couldn’t help but open them, eagerly, relieved to see a familiar figure moving towards the bed.

At times he was surprised at himself, for having so much control over his body that he didn’t reach out or speak, simply observing the Asgardian as the man approached, undressed, settled on the bed. Steve can’t help but admire the broad back, the curving and tapering of muscles towards Thor’s waist; per usual he traces the dips and mounds of muscles with his eyes, watches as the mighty frame sags a fraction.  
This he had learned, over time, that there were moments when Thor needed quiet and comfort without having to explain himself, without having to speak about what went on his mind, or about reasons and experiences. It was that distinct, telling way in which the Asgardian exhaled deep breaths, and slumped down further, that resting of his elbows on his knees while Steve watched, and waited, that spoke louder than any explanation ever could.

What Steve wants he always seems to get, somehow, because only a few moments later Thor lays down beside him, back still turned towards him and the god curling slightly in on himself. Close, inviting, and Steve would be damned if he would not take the opportunity, couldn’t really fight the urge any longer and honestly had no desire to.  
‘ Hey…’

It’s a mere whisper that accompanies his movements, the shift towards the other slow but determined. This was nothing new, no undiscovered territory; he knows how to fit and slot them together, how to align himself perfectly against that strong back, nuzzling between the shoulder blades while his arm snakes around Thor’s waist. 

There’s no other reply than a soft hum, the sort that is a sound of gratitude and relief, and he feels the tension in the muscles lessen as he places another kiss against the warm skin. Sweat, a hint of ozone, a sliver of copper in the scent…

His own relief washes over him, Thor’s warmth seeping through his skin, and he considers asking where he was, what happened, thinking better of it when the Asgardian sighs and sags further into his arms. And Steve knows that it didn’t really matter right now, that the details will come eventually, in the morning, and now he can only feel grateful for having him again, his hold on the thunderer tightening.

And Steve knows that when Thor turns to kiss him he is asking for something only he could give, reassurance and caresses over his skin, a question in the way he coils against him. Sometimes they didn’t need explanations, or words, to know that feeling alive was a blessing, and feeling alive with each other, in the here and now, was almost as important as oxygen.

He gives what is needed, without question and without reservations, tasting every inch his eager mouth can reach, hands mapping out every curve and mound beneath his fingers, grip once again firm on the god’s hips when they are finally connected.

**Author's Note:**

> ( based on the prompt list from the folks at http://smut-101.tumblr.com )  
> written for the husbando in the run towards his beeday :3


End file.
